Pretty Boys
by ConcreteAngelRoxHerHalo
Summary: Sheltered Cosette thinks it's a great idea to follow her Papa to sea under a really bad disguise. She starts to regret her decision when a pirate gang, run by Captain Montparnasse, takes over the ship. Is there room for love on the seven seas? What is her cabin mate, Jondrette, hiding? When will Cosette realize that she's just not good at keeping secrets? E/E, M/C.
1. Chapter 1

**Okay, so just a clarification: Most of the dialogue will sound pretty modern, but this takes place in some… Not modern… time. I'm just lazy as f*ck. Thankfully, I automatically type anything Les Mis in a way so that it sounds awkward and stuffy. This may just help me rather than harm me. :)**

**The Cosette in this will be a mix between the slightly sassy musical Cosette and the book Cosette.**

* * *

Cosette loved her dresses. She could spend a whole day in a dress shop, running her delicate hand over the many fabrics and relishing in the various ways they roughed her fingertips. They spun and they swished, and whenever her Papa was gone, they took up the space he left behind. It was a simple, content, burgoise life. She never knew her mother, and her adoptive father was the only person she'd ever truly loved. She had eyes for men, (Specifically the handsome devil she kept seeing in the park) but marriage seemed to be such a frivolous prospect at her ripe sixteen years of age.

The door to the foyer opened with the loud creak that she was accustomed to, and Cosette cheerfully ran to greet her Papa. She smiled and welcomed him warmly with a kiss on each cheek. However, there was something terribly wrong. His kind eyes were troubled and he could barely manage a thin smile. She frowned. He always had time to smile at her. _Always._ Why was he so sad?

"Cosette, my darling, I must pack immediately." He avoided her concerned gaze and pushed past her and into the house. "Toussaint! Please pack my smallest bag with my simplest clothes."

The servant did as was told, and Cosette turned to her father. "But Papa, you always wear your finest suits on your trips!"

"Not this time. And, Cosette, you shall be in the care of Toussaint for a little longer than usual. I shall be gone a long time." He said, his voice short and clipped and unfamiliar to Cosette.

"Where will you go?"

"Somewhere that you needn't worry your pretty head about." He managed a smile at her and kissed the crown of her russet head in a manner that the impatient girl found demeaning.

"Really, Papa! I'm no longer a child and I want to know where you're going and why it's so sudden!" She cried, suddenly, pushing his broad chest away from her. She stormed into the dining room and sat down in one of the velvet chairs, glaring at her Papa. She felt bad for causing the hurt in his eyes, but she knew that she needed to know.

"I'm going to sea, my child." He said, sadly. She frowned, again.

"Then why are you being so secretive? Silly man, you've gone-"

"This time is different. Cosette…" He said, looking her in the eye. She straightened her shoulders, somehow sensing that the truth she'd longed for was finally going to emerge. "Have I told you of the time I stole some bread?"

* * *

Marius had only a few francs in his pocket, and as he was a young man, he didn't know how to spend them in a way that did not involve drinking. So he sat in a seedy tavern by the harbor and sipped on cheap wine. Greasy, hearty food was placed in front of him by a blushing waitress, but he wasn't much in the mood to eat. His first night away from home was spent here, and he had a bag on the seat next to him and a lock on his heart.

On the other side of the tavern, a group of young men conversed loudly. They were all in simple wear, despite their burgoise appearances, and seemed to be under command of a formidable man with piercing green eyes. Marius recognized the lot as sailors.

There were officers in the tavern; and there were much more than Marius thought necessary. They all had their eyes on the group. Marius soon forgot about the odd scene around him and began wondering, absentmindedly, if the tavern offered rooms for rent. Just then, two of the sailors slid into the chairs opposite of him. As one of the officers made his way to stop them, the ruddier of the two barked, "Calm down, monsieur. We're just chatting with this bloke! Nothing illegal!"

The officer reluctantly retreated, and the man turned his attention towards Marius.

His friend made the first move, sticking out a beefy hand and smiling a genuine smile. "Lesgle,"

"L'Aigle! The eagle! How grand!" Marius said, impressed. The man laughed and returned the younger boy's smile.

"Indeed, but I'm called Bousset by my lot there." The man, Bousset, rubbed the back of his bald head. "The name on your bag, Pontmercy…"

"What of it?"

"I believe we were in a law class together, many months ago." He said, conversationally.

"So it may be," Marius replied, still confused as of why the two men wished to speak with him in the first place.

"Why do you have that bag there in the first place?" The other one asked. He also stuck out his hand. "Courferyac."

"Well, I've just come into mind that I need a new place to stay." Marius summarized, and the two men before him exchanged a glance.

"Why don't you come with us?" Courferyac asked, his kind eyes alight with amusement.

"To sea?" Marius asked, incredulously. He nodded.

"See, we're prisoners, and having a burgoise on deck may lessen our bad treatment." Bousset said, and he received a hit on the head from Courferyac as Marius choked on his wine.

"Prisoners? What did-"

"Treason against the king." Courferyac answered, simply. "None of us are sailors… Actually, we're all students but for Bahorel. Calm down, mon ami, we did nothing too violent."

"TOO violent?" Marius asked, still trying to calm himself down.

"We attempted to build a barricade, but we were rounded up before a shot could be fired." Bousset assured, and Marius did calm down a little.

"So, will you come?" Courferyac asked, excitedly. Marius shrugged, and before he knew it he was being dragged towards the formidable man with his bag clutched tightly in his hand. "Captain Javert! You said the crew was too small and I've found a recruit."

Javert did not smile. Instead, he regarded Marius with a cool gaze and nodded. "Do you have any experience with ships, boy?"

"I-uh-I went to England with my grandfather once."

"I suppose that's better than these schoolboys have to say. Welcome to the crew, sailor."

* * *

**Short first chapter, and hopefully the others will be longer. Please review! And, if you find yourselves to be fans of the Seafaring AU, I strongly recommend "Of Sand and Distant Shores" by Cannibalistic Skittles. I believe it's in the musical category. And it's quite well written. :)**

**Also, I am in need of a beta reader. Anyone? Anyone?**


	2. Chapter 2

Javert looked at his motley crew with disgust. The only ones who seemed as if they could actually DO anything were the big, burly traitor and Valjean. He smirked when he looked over the latter. It had been years, but it was nice to see the thief doing labor again. He was about to order the gangplank to be raised when two urchins darted on board.

"Sorry, cap'n!" The smaller of the two cried. He was skinny and blond and smiled a gap-toothed smile. His eyes were clear, blue, and so very mischievous. He had with him a slightly taller, girly-looking youth with a scowling expression and amber eyes that were narrowed in suspicion.

"Who are you, sailor?" He asked. He knew that he was expecting a couple of ship's boys to help out with the rigging and the dirtier jobs on board.

"'M Gavroche." The blond boy said, excitedly, prodding the boy next to him.

"I'm his brother." The youth said in a voice that was raspy as if he'd been screaming too much, but rough as if from under usage. "We're the Jondrette boys."

Javert figured that it wouldn't do to call to sailors the same name, so he made a mental note to do his best to remember the little one's name. "Gavroche. Jondrette. The two of you are too weak to do your duties on your own." He looked around the crew and noted two boys who seemed to be better off than the rest. One was the one that he picked up in the tavern, with clean, long hair and neat clothes and an embroidered bag. The other was the one that seemed to be Valjean's son.

Valjean prodded the back of the boy when he saw Javert looking at them, and the youth said in a bell-like voice, "I'm Connor Fauchelevant, captain."

Javert looked closely. The boy was quite pretty, with full lips, clear, porcelain skin and wide blue eyes. His cheeks were full and splotched as if with rouge. He radiated innocence and purity, and Valjean seemed to be very protective of the delicate boy.

"Fauchelevant, Pontmercy. You two are to be ship's boys along with Jondrette and Gustave." Javert ordered in that cool way that his crew would have to get used to.

"Gavroche." The child corrected, but Javert's attention was fixed on the Pontmercy boy, whose face was flushed a scarlet color.

"But, sir, I'm twenty one-"

"There will be no 'But's on this ship. This is the S.S. Law and should be treated as if you lot actually respect its namesake." This earned some murmuring from the schoolboys, and Javert glared at them, causing most of them to shut up.

Most of them slumped or crossed their arms over their under-toned chests. One of them had already managed to get into the liquor store on board; other than him, there was a singular figure that stood out. Instead of looking defeated, the boy stood erect and still, his chin up and his arms stiff at his sides. Javert came right up to the blond statue and looked at him closely, green eyes boring into icy blue. "Name, boy?"

"Enjolras." He responded, shortly. Although Javert regarded them all as traitors, he knew that he needed a second in command. This man seemed the closest thing to a leader that the crew had, and so he nodded at the boy.

"You're First Mate Enjolras, now."

The boy nodded. Even after Javert walked by, he kept his proud stance and never once let his chest cave. Javert saw this out of the corner of his eye and was inwardly impressed. He went around, asking questions and assigning jobs based on this. His crew was abnormally small, consisting of under twenty boys.

The ship's boys stood together. The two pretty ones seemed especially glad of their group.

Cosette couldn't help herself. Pontmercy was _him_! The handsome boy who caught her eye in the park. Although she regarded other men in the same way, he was never far from her mind. She felt quite exhilarated just to be in his company.

Gavroche, the small boy, was chatting off Pontmercy's ear as the four headed down to their cabins. The ship was of a decent size, so there were about two or three men assigned to each cabin. Cosette was nervous. She figured that Jondrette would want to room with his brother, but the boy almost immediately said, "Gavroche, you go with Monsieur Pontmercy."

"None of this 'Monsieur' business. We're to be friends. You can call me Marius." He said, sticking out a hand to Jondrette, who looked away. Sighing, Marius put his hand towards Cosette and she took it. There was a sudden shock between them, and Cosette pulled away. She saw in his eyes that he felt it as well.

"Okay. Fauchelevant? This is ours." Jondrette interrupted, suddenly looking very uncomfortable. Cosette nodded, still looking into Marius's captivating cobalt irises. Cosette and Marius were too absorbed in each other to notice as Jondrette pulled his brother aside and murmured something to him. "Not a word about… You know. Or Papa."

"Yeah, Yeah." Gavroche mumbled, pulling himself free of his sibling's grasp. "Got it, 'Po-"

"'Po?" Cosette looked up at this and smiled warmly at her new roommate. "Is that your name?"

"No. Just a childish nickname." Jondrette said, stiffly. "You can call me Jondrette."

Cosette nodded, a little lost. What did she ever do to this boy?

Why did Marius make her feel as if she recently drank something bubbly?

What the hell did she get herself into?

**Thanks for all the favorites and the follows! Again, I love reviews! I require at least two reviews on this chapter if anyone wishes for me to continue this story. **

**(I'm posting this on FictionPress as well, changing the names and a bit of the plot line... Just thought I'd tell ya'll)**


	3. Chapter 3

The first three days at sea passed without much incident. Gavroche grew on the crew to the point that everyone in the mess hall formed a pack around him whenever he spoke of adventures that he had had on the streets. He earned laughs and sympathy; his crowd was filled with emotions at his tales. Jondrette took to the shadows, seeming to glare at everything and everyone in suspicion.

Marius was friendly, and in him Cosette found a confidant. He looked at her with the occasional long gaze that set her heart fluttering and yet bristled the hairs on the back of her neck. He knew something; she just didn't know what it was. While Marius' eyes were on Cosette, neither of them noticed a certain pair of amber eyes lingering on the happy pair, watching from their home in the shadows.

Enjolras took to his First Mate duties immediately, his stoic personality suiting his roll. It helped that he was a good friend of a majority of the crew, for they listened to him and knew him well enough to follow what he said. Occasionally, Grantaire (the drunkard on board) or Courferyac would crack a joke about him- all in good spirits, of course- and he would shoot them an icy glare that froze them in whatever position they'd last taken. In fact, Bahorel said to Grantaire once, "Why do you call him Apollo, _mon ami_? He seems more like Medusa."

Despite this, every evening would find him in the tight-knit circle of the treasonous schoolboys, laughing occasionally and talking with passion about whatever cause had recently struck his fancy. Once, while he spoke of helping women and children in violent domestic situations, Jondrette spoke up, his raspy voice seizing the attention of the group in its entirety. "What can you do to stop it? No matter what you do, it will still happen. There's no way to see inside each tenement, each house. It's a hopeless cause, Monsieur."

At this, Les Amis watched their leader's reaction carefully. All he gave was the hint of a frown; the corners of his lips sloped downwards slightly and a wrinkle appeared between his eyebrows. "_Garçon_, I prefer for you to call me Enjolras." He was used to drunken cynicism from Grantaire, and the only thing that bothered him was the formal addressing from one of his peers. Seemingly a child, but mature enough in spirit to be one of them.

* * *

On the fourth day, Cosette was speaking with Marius when he gave her that look again. She raised her perfectly shaped eyebrows to let him know that such a glance did not pass her by. His cheekbones became tinged with red and a dimple creased near the left side of his mouth before he responded.

"_Je suis désolé_, it is just that you look very familiar, and so does your father. Do you have a sister by chance? A lovely angel who is often clad in expensive clothing?" He asked her as if he knew the answer. However, she gave none, instead just tilting her head ever so slightly and smiling in a very similar way to how he had at her. She enjoyed being referred to as _une belle ange_. It would help anyone's self esteem.

He dropped the subject, but he kept eying her in that unique way that made her feel as if she was under scrutiny and at the same time special. Neither of them noticed the whisper of smoke with amber eyes that saw the conversation. If they had, they'd have seen the visual of a heart breaking.

* * *

On the fifth night, Cosette was getting ready to retire for the night. She stopped by the rail, many feet under the crow's nest, and inhaled the salty air that she was beginning to love. It was then that a song broke her peace.

"_Alouette, j'ante alouette. Alouette, j'ante plumerai_."

It was a haunting sound that came from her past, touching the tip of a very cold iceberg of a memory that would make Cosette's soul cold. As it was, the song caused her to freeze in place. It wasn't just the song, either. It was the voice. A shockingly feminine voice that couldn't belong to any of the crew members. At first, she thought of Jehan, the gentle poet. His voice was high enough and the song seemed like one that he would sing.

However, Jehan's cheerful demeanor could never make the happy song sound like a funeral hymn, which the singer did. Cosette, thoroughly shaken from the scare, tucked herself into bed in her dark cabin, all at once wishing for her canopied bed back in Paris.

* * *

It was the sixth day that the inevitable happened. She and Marius were scaling the rigging quickly, having seen Gavroche do it with ease the previous day. They pulled themselves up on a platform that was at least fifty feet from the deck of the small ship. They collapsed there, a mess of sweaty limbs and caving chests. Then, comfortable silence followed. In the quiet presence, a gust of wind broke the breeze, sending the sails a flutter and the cap off Javert's head. Cosette, small as she was, found herself tumbling off the platform. She managed to clutch to the mast in time, but with both of her hands occupied, her cap was taken by the wind, releasing a sheen of auburn hair that tumbled down the shoulders of her smock.

Marius, one hand on his own cap, reached out and pulled her back to safety, holding her down with his wiry strength. She started blushing furiously, all too aware of the fact that he was slightly on top of her and that her curls were splayed around her head like a red halo. The wind died down, but Marius did not move. He was looking at her with such tenderness, and he brushed a singular lock away from her forehead before closing the space between them and pressing his lips to her virgin ones. Their embrace was swift and passionate all at once, leaving her breathless.

He helped her up and handed her his cap. Before she put it on, he kissed her again, and whispered against her lips, "Your disguise wasn't very convincing, _mon amour_."

She bit her lip, again liking what he was calling her. "My name's Cosette." She told him.

"I am lost." He told her, holding her tightly. She responded with her head resting against his chest.

"I am found."

* * *

**A/N: I couldn't help throwing the bit from the musical in there. :)**

**I'm not sure if I got the song right, because I'm writing this where I have no wifi and my French autocorrect at least said that all the words existed. *Sigh* **

**Just a warning: Some of the chapters later on WILL progress to M, I just won't change it. I'll give a warning. I plan on making Cosette and Marius have a more… Physical relationship. We'll see how this works out. (Remember, in the novel they only kissed like once or twice before they were married.)**


	4. Chapter 4

Cosette came dancing into the room that she shared with Jondrette. The _gamin _looked up from his task (rebraiding a rope that he spent the night before unwinding) and raised an eyebrow. Cosette shook her hair from beneath her cap and perched on her bed. Jondrette put down his rope and placed his elbows on his knees, resting his chin in his hands.

"Last night you came in crying and tonight you come in like someone just showed you the answers to all of life's questions." He stated, and Cosette looked at him, slightly confused.

"You weren't here last night."

"I came in right behind you- I'm good at being quiet." The boy said, and his gaze told her that he was ready to know the story behind her smile.

"Well… I told him." She stated, in a sing-song tone. Jondrette's face fell for a second before he replaced it with his regular mask of indifference.

"Told who, what?"

"I told Marius about…" She giggled. "Well, _you know_."

"Oh." Was all the other figure had to say. Cosette sighed and fell back onto her mattress, clutching her cap to her chest.

"I think… I love him. And, I think that he loves me too!" She squealed and could feel the burning of her grin as her lips made indents on her face. It took her a few minutes to register the silence on the other side of the cabin. When she looked, she was very nearly taken aback by the _despair_ in her companion's eyes. "Jonny, what's wrong?"

"Don't call me Jonny." He said, slowly. He said nothing else, but squirmed under his sheets as if ready for sleep. They spent a good amount of time like this: Cosette peering across the room at Jondrette, who was laying on his back and looking at the ceiling with wide eyes. The candle flickered on the little dresser that sat between their beds, and Cosette carefully puckered her lips and blew a puff of air. The flame vanished, flooding the cabin in darkness.

"Jondrette…" Cosette said after a while. "Do you love me as well?"

There was a snort and then a softly-spoken yet harsh statement. "Don't be so full of yourself."

That was all that was said on the matter.

* * *

The next day was particularly stormy, and whoever was not on duty conversed in the mess hall. There was a certain gloomy air about, and no one seemed in the mood for their usual cheerful banter. Instead, they spoke of the things they left behind. Cosette sat in between Marius and her father, listening as he recounted the story of his initial arrest to the group of curious schoolboys.

Across the room, Enjolras was trying to keep his small book open as he took notes. However, it was increasingly difficult to hold the book open whilst writing and trying to keep the ink bottle from spilling. Giving up on doing the task by himself, he called over the first sailor he saw. "Jondrette!"

"Yes, Monsieur?" The shadow replied, slipping (for indeed, the youth seemed to glide rather than walk) over to the older boy.

"I need you to read aloud to me, if you will." Enjolras instructed. Jondrette turned beet red, but raised his chin as if accepting a difficult challenge. The book changed hands, and Jondrette flipped to the dog-eared page of 'The Social Contract'.

"The first… person who, having en…closed a p-p-lot of land, took it in… to his head to say this is mee-mi-my-ne and found people sye-sih-mple enough to be-" Jondrette was cut off by an impatient Enjolras, who snatched the book out of his hands.

"You could have told me if you cannot read."

"I can too!" Jondrette exclaimed. "I can also write!" He grabbed Enjolras' quill and a sheet of paper. He bent over the table, his eyebrows furrowed in concentration as he scribbled out a statement on the paper. He stood up, triumphant. "There! Told you so."

Enjolras stood to look over the boy's shoulders. As he did so, he saw a curiously long strand of hair that escaped his cap. Ignoring the odd sight, he read aloud what Jondrette wrote. "_Les cognes est dans le région."_ He frowned at the sight and took the quill from Jondrette's hand. "First of all, you shouldn't refer to the police as 'cognes'. The more correct term would be 'police' or 'flics'. And that's a wrong verb… It wouldn't be 'The cops _is_', it would be 'The cops _are_'."

"Well, I'm sorry that I never had the opportunity to learn anythin' but _argot_ and a couple other words." Jondrette growled and turned to leave. However, a slightly softened Enjolras grabbed his arm and pulled him back.

"This is what we're- what _I'm_- fighting against, Jondrette. Why don't you let me teach you?" He asked. Jondrette's scowl deepened and he pulled away.

"I won't do that for you. Jesus, it's all you men want. Girl or boy, anyone to fill your need." He snapped, and Enjolras' eyes widened when he realized what the boy meant.

"No! Oh, God, no. I would never!" He seemed truly appalled at the prospect, and Jondrette's face relaxed into a slight smile.

"You would really teach me? For free?" He asked, hopefully.

"Yes, Jondrette. We start tomorrow." Enjolras' return to 'stiff leader' was enough of a hint for Jondrette to leave the First Mate alone. As the Ship's Boy walked away, he couldn't wipe his excited grin off his face. He passed his brother on his way out, and Gavroche raised his eyebrows at the pleased expression on the 15-year-old's face.

Jondrette ignored his brother and pushed onto the deck, ready to relieve Bahorel of his watch duty. He didn't even mind the rain.

After all, a little fall of rain could hardly hurt him after some of the things he'd been through.

* * *

**A/N: **_**les cognes**_**_est dans la région_****- The cops is in the area**

**_argot_****- a dialect often used in the slums of Paris**

**Hey there my lovely readers! Sorry for not updating in… What? Two weeks? I had major writer's block. Plus my little author's protest of not updating until I got a certain amount of reviews on one of my stories… *hides away in shame***

**I felt that it was really important for this little interaction between Enjolras and Éponine… (Don't worry: I won't refer to her as 'him' for forever... Just for most of the story.)**


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: To make up for the lack of recent updates, here's a juicy one :)**

* * *

The SS Law's purpose on sea was to hunt down pirates. Of course, with the meager crew they had, Javert was pretty certain that it was the same as putting all these kids up for execution. Normally, he wouldn't mind hearing of a situation like this, for he would know that the boys broke the law and deserved such a punishment. However, this was _his_ crew. And he was also on this boat. He would never admit it, but he was getting a little attached to his rag-tag group of sailors. Secretly, the brave Captain Javert prayed that they would return home without having run into any pirates at all.

His prayers were dashed when he heard a gun-shot from the deck. He and Enjolras exchanged a nervous glance before leaving the Captain's cabin. Javert unsheathed his sword and Enjolras grabbed a musket from Gavroche's hands. Before facing the fight, he knelt down to the boy and told him, sternly, "Gavroche, I need you, your brother, and Fauchelevant to stay below-decks."

"No way!" The boy protested, but under Enjolras' never-wavering glare, he sagged his shoulders and nodded, running off to find the others.

The smaller ship had pulled up next to the SS Law and ropes bound the two boats together. Dirty, bearded men were swarming the opposite deck, grabbing swords and guns and preparing to board. Enjolras caught the sight of a bleeding Bossuet being escorted by Joly to the infirmary.

It was their third week at sea and their first attack. Enjolras had been tutoring the eldest Jondrette for two weeks and the two had become as close as tutor and student could, often tossing about inside jokes in the mess hall, much to the crew's disbelief. Enjolras had to admit he liked the mysterious boy who so quickly could be on either his bad or his good side. So, when he saw Jondrette with a dagger in hand, he ran for the boy.

Enjolras grabbed his arm and pulled him into the captain's cabin. Jondrette huffed and crossed his arms. "Enjy! What gives?"

"I told you not to call me Enjy." He said, a smile flickering on his stony face but for a second. Then he remembered his purpose and told the younger boy, "You're just a kid. You're not fighting."

Jondrette frowned and shook his head. "This is _child's play_ compared to some of the things I've seen on the street." He snapped, but the blond didn't budge.

"You're staying in here during the fight. No objections."

"No!"

"Yes!" Enjolras then thought of a plan, and, hearing the frequent gun-shots outside the door, knew he had to put it in action soon. No matter what, he wasn't going to let the urchin get hurt. "Fine. Just stay away from the main fighting, all right?"

Jondrette's eyes lit up and he nodded eagerly.

Enjolras opened the door and paused, looking back at the boy. "You can't go out there with just a dagger. Javert keeps a spare pistol in his drawer. Check for it."

In the heat of the moment, Jondrette did it. As soon as the boy's back was turned, Enjolras stepped outside and locked the door. From inside, he could hear Jondrette's curses.

"You son of a bitch!"

Enjolras chuckled fondly before he lunged into the fighting, shooting a pirate in the head as he very nearly slit Jehan's throat.

Below decks, Cosette paced nervously while Gavroche lounged on her bed. "Calm down, Fauchelevant."

She shot him a look, and he shot one back, the two Ship's Boys glaring at each other while their crewmates were in mortal danger right above them.

"Where's your brother?" She asked. Indeed, she was nervous not only for her father and Marius, but also for Jondrette.

"He'll be fine. He's been in enough fights to handle himself." Gavroche muttered, his averted eyes revealing his true fear.

"With guns?"

Gavroche didn't answer, and Cosette nodded stiffly at him, knowing her answer.

They waited.

* * *

Enjolras couldn't tell who was doing it, but they were winning the fight only because someone kept tying up the enemies and tossing them to the other ship. Whoever it was did their job quickly and smoothly, and no one could even see the person. Enjolras had his suspicions, but he was too occupied to check the Captain's cabin to ensure that Jondrette had indeed stayed out of the fighting.

There was a particularly loud noise to his left as a pirate knocked Marius' gun out of his hand and backed the boy against the wall with a sharp sword aimed at his heart. Then a small figure darted between them and slashed the pirate's side with a small dagger. The pirate, his attention now diverted from Marius, growled and tried to cut the figure, but he was rebutted as the dagger blocked the sword.

It was then that Enjolras caught sight of the determined face that was engaged with the pirate. "Shit." He cursed. It was Jondrette, who had somehow escaped the cabin. He started towards the boy and the pirate, hitting any potential threats over the head with the butt of his gun. He saw the boy disarm the pirate and dance around the confused man. Before the pirate realized what was going on, his arms were bound to his side by rope.

A satisfied Jondrette then noticed Enjolras and paled. He tugged his cap lower over his eyes and stiffened. Suddenly, the boy was running at the First Mate, shouting something unintelligible. Enjolras was pushed to ground as Jondrette cried out in pain. He jumped to his feet in time to see a grinning man pull his blood-soaked sword out of the limp urchin. Enjolras yelled out, a sudden fury over taking him as he shoved his gun under the man's chin and pulled the trigger. A muffled shot sounded as the man's brains were blown out of his skull. Enjolras heard the awaited cry from the other ship's captain.

"We surrender! Men, drop your weapons."

There was a clatter as swords and guns hit the polished deck of the SS Law. Now free to stop fighting, Enjolras knelt beside the bloody boy. Jondrette's eyes were half-lidded and there was a silent moan of pain on his lips. He had a small, dirty hand pressed to his shoulder, where blood spurted from the wound. Just then, Marius came over and sucked in a breath. Jondrette's eyes widened as he saw the other Ship's Boy kneeling beside him.

Marius hissed out, "Oh, you stupid, stupid boy."

Enjolras took Jondrette into his arms and began carrying him to the infirmary. Marius walked beside him as Enjolras snapped, worriedly, "I told you to stay away."

Jondrette rolled his eyes, his broken voice saying, "You're welcome, you thankless assholes."

"Pontmercy, go below deck and check on Gavroche and Fauchelevant." Enjolras ordered, and Marius nodded, ducking away. The blond turned to his injured friend. "Jesus Christ, Jondrette. This is bad. You're-" Enjolras cleared his throat. He didn't know why he was suddenly _feeling_ emotion. "You're losing a lot of blood."

""m fine." Jondrette murmured, his eyes closing. The two busted into the infirmary, where Joly was dismissing Bossuet, who had a bloody bandage tied around his arm. Both men seemed in shock when the urchin was laid out on the table.

"Shit. Is he gonna be fine?" Bossuet asked, looking genuinely concerned for the shadow who seemed to be on the brink of death.

"I don't know." Joly murmured. He turned to his good friend and tilted his head in the direction of the door. Bossuet took the hint and left, stubbing his toe on the doorframe on his way out. Enjolras nearly relaxed at the regular nature of the action.

Enjolras turned back to Joly, who was removing the urchin's smock. Suddenly he paused and looked up at the concerned Enjolras. The blonde's eyes widened and he started to step close to the table but the student shook his head and raised his hand to stop him.

"Stay there." Joly ordered, his voice strangely shaky. "It's real bad. In fact, it would be best if you left. He'll be in a lot of pain."

Enjolras nodded, a strange knot working its way around his stone heart, squeezing life into it. If Jondrette wasn't okay, he had a strange feeling that he would die along with the boy.

* * *

Jondrette's eyes creaked open. His mouth was dry and his entire body ached, especially the wound in his shoulder. He groaned, and a relieved face came into focus. Joly smiled. "Thank God, you're awake!" The medical student pressed a glass to Jondrette's lips and eased the liquid into his dry throat. Jondrette swallowed, thankful.

Once he finished and laid back on his pillow, he realized that his cap was off. A weak hand fluttered to his released hair, and Joly laughed. He handed the cap to the urchin and winked.

"Don't worry; your secret is safe with me, _mademoiselle._"

* * *

**A/N: Éponine's secret is out! Although, it really wasn't much of a secret, was it? **

**We finally have some E/É! **

**Now that the secret is out, I'll only refer to Éponine as 'him' when Marius, Cosette, Javert, or Enjolras are narrating. When it's her or Gavroche, she'll be a 'her'.**

**Review, please! Only one for last chapter *tears* (By the way, I love you, you only reviewer. You know who you are!)**


	6. Chapter 6

"How is he?" Enjolras asked, leaping to his stiff legs. He'd been sitting in front of the infirmary door for hours, waiting for Joly to emerge with _any_ kind of news. Occasionally, Gavroche or Cosette would come and wait with him. Once Grantaire even joined him for a few minutes, offering him some rum which he vehemently refused.

Joly gave him a wan smile, wiping his bloody hands on a rag. "Jondrette'll pull through. He's a strong kid."

Enjolras exhaled, releasing a breath that he didn't realize he'd been holding. He tried to look past Joly to see into the room, but the younger man blocked his view. "Can I talk to him?"

"No!" Joly shouted, all at once throwing himself at Enjolras. The first mate looked at him oddly, and Joly calmed himself down a little bit. "I mean, no. He's unconscious and won't be able to understand anything you say-"

"Joly, you don't understand. He saved my life." Enjolras said, softly. His hands curled into fists. The urge to see _son petit ami_ was overwhelming, and he wouldn't let anyone stop him- not even a life-long friend.

"Enjolras, I understand this. But-" Joly's hands started to shake; this was a sight that Enjolras wasn't used to seeing. Even when he'd become convinced that he was dying of a flesh-eating-bacteria, his hands didn't shake. The only time they did was when he and Bousset were separated during their brief stay in prison and he thought his good friend was dead.

"What's wrong?" He asked. Joly avoided his gaze, trying to duck back inside his little hidey-hole, but Enjolras grasped his upper arm and pulled him close. "Jean Alexandre Holly, what is the matter?"

Joly gulped. He knew things were serious when Enjolras used his full name. He stuttered out, "Nothing! I swear, Jondrette is fine and I've nothing to hide!"

He realized his mistake when Enjolras' eyes widened and he actually started to attempt to use force against Joly. Jondrette moaned from inside, causing both men to react. Joly looked over his shoulder with a worried expression, and Enjolras became more eager to push his way inside.

Cosette heard the commotion and came down, Gavroche on her heels and Marius not far behind. The three of them pulled Enjolras away from Joly, the strong man very nearly throwing off the weaker sailors. Gavroche sensed what was happening from one look from Joly. He ducked inside and ran to Jondrette's bedside.

Enjolras relaxed, much to the relief of Marius and Cosette. He looked at the terrified Joly with hooded eyes, his blue irises darkening with worry and fury. "Joly, please."

A weak voice called from inside, "Let him in, _Jean Alexandre Holly_."

Cosette and Marius started laughing at Joly's expense. Even Enjolras managed a tight smile, and he breezed past Joly to go to Jondrette's bedside. He smiled down at the small, dark figure that laid there.

Jondrette grinned back up. Joly had evidentially helped him clean up, for the boy's tan skin was shining with a newly acquired cleanliness and what little bit of chestnut hair emerged from his cap seemed devoid of dirt and grease. However, his old cap seemed as dirty as ever. In comparison to his new, clean smock, the small hat seemed out of place.

"Enjolras, next time you want to see me, don't try to beat up Joly to do it. I kinda need him to live." Jondrette joked, his laugh causing him to break into a fit of very painful looking coughs. Enjolras immediately helped him to sit up, thumping his back with his hand.

"Are you alright?" He asked, worriedly. Jondrette seemed very amused by his various reactions.

"I thought you were the marble statue. I feel quite honored to draw such a reaction from you! What on earth have I been doing right?" He said, and Enjolras turned serious, the crinkles around his eyes fading along with his easy smile.

"You saved my life."

Jondrette shrugged, not seeming to realize that his cap was teetering precariously on the side of his head. Joly, who was standing awkwardly to the side, noticed and lunged forward to push it down on the boy's head. Enjolras looked at Joly with suspicion, and he stuttered out an explanation. "The-The-The pressure from the cap helps decrease his headache."

Enjolras' eyes narrowed but he decided to believe it for that moment. Jondrette and Joly were hiding something, and he became determined to get to the bottom of it. And when Marc Enjolras set his mind to something, he would do it.

* * *

Cosette and Marius eased their way from a chaste kiss to a more passionate one, their mouths becoming flashes of tongues and teeth and the flavor of rum and beef. Cosette was poised in his lap, her small, roughening hands pressed against his chest. His larger, equally as delicate hands were tangled in her hair.

They broke apart for a second, their deep breaths hissing against the others wet lips. Cosette tumbled off his lap and to her bed. Marius chuckled and gently climbed on top of her, his hands cautiously roaming her body.

Needless to say, neither of them particularly missed Jondrette.

* * *

Gavroche snuck into the infirmary that night. Joly, convinced that Jondrette would be fine on his own, 'was asleep, leaving the siblings to have their time stolen in the night hours.

Gavroche climbed into the bed beside his sister, throwing his little arms around her frail frame. She responded, draping an arm over his fattening shoulders and burying her nose in his hair.

"I've been real scared, 'Ponine." He whispered, and she sighed into his blond curls.

"I know. I'm sorry." She said, and yet she wasn't really. Gavroche had found a family amongst the crew, a family that he'd never truly had with her and their parents and sister. If she'd died, he would have been well cared for. Probably more so than if she stuck with him.

"I'm glad, you know." He said, finally. "I'm glad you've found somebody to die for."

She laughed a little and responded. "I know. Me too."

They held each other in comfortable silence. The singular candle in the rocking room provided a dull golden glow to light them. The shadows seemed to be friendly when they were together. All of a sudden, Gavroche was reminded of his time on the streets and those few lucky times that one of the scary shadows would turn out to be his sister.

"That was a close call, today, with Enjolras." Gavroche commented. Éponine nodded in agreement.

"I don't know what I'd do," She choked out. "If he found out."

Neither of them knew that a particular blond revolutionary was sitting outside the infirmary, listening in. To the siblings' good fortune, he was just even more confused. He couldn't, for the life of him, figure out the urchin's secret.

Éponine Jondrette was very good at hiding things. It was one of the few things her father taught her- how to make a decent disguise. She just hoped that it would stay in place for the duration of their journey.

* * *

**A/N: Sorry! This chapter is painfully short. I just wanted to be able to leave ya'll with ****_something_****. I've found that most of my time is being occupied with this story's counterpart on fictionpress. Its story line diverged from this one's around last chapter, so it's been difficult to write both. **

**Did anyone catch my pathetic attempt at a RENT reference? **


	7. Chapter 7

**This one's ALL Enjolras x Eponine :) It's a peace offering for disappearing for so long.**

* * *

"Okay, what's wrong?" Jondrette asked. Enjolras looked up, surprised at the question. He thought that he was concealing his emotions well… Obviously he wasn't. He ignored the question and continued reading Jondrette's sentences. The boy stood and walked over to Enjolras and put his hand over his own work.

Enjolras sighed. "Fine. I just wish that you would be honest." He stood and Jondrette backed away, losing his confidence once the taller man stood over him.

"What do you mean?" Jondrette asked, keeping his cool more than Enjolras (which was no easy feat).

"You know what I mean. You're hiding something. And I want you to know that I won't stop investigating until I find out." Enjolras made sure to trap Jondrette between the table in his cabin and his body, forcing the boy to look at him.

Jondrette's eyes were scared, for he was used to being abused as anyone with eyes could see. Enjolras knew this, and being capable of being terrible, he planned to use it against him to extract information. It may have been a selfish manner to do so, but Enjolras hated being in the dark more than he hated Bonapartists.

Jondrette had been on the mend for a few weeks, and his wound was healing quite quickly. He'd said to Joly, "My body's gotten used to it… Ain't nothing I haven't had before." This had made Enjolras frown.

And here he was, walking around a week before Joly predicted he would have the ability to do so. However, with his good health grew Enjolras' discomfort at the secret that Jondrette was so desperate to hide from him.

And now, trapped by Enjolras, Jondrette grew pale and a sweat broke out on his delicate forehead. Knowing the boundaries that lay around Jondrette in knowledge of his recent injury, Enjolras wisely backed away, running a hand through his wild curls.

"I think we're done with our lessons today." He said, pointing at the door, and fully expecting Jondrette to take that way out. However, the First Mate was shocked when he instead saw the _gamin_ come close, a curious light in his eye.

"Would you tell Javert?" He asked, looking down at his hands, which he wrung in his nervous state.

"Depending on the importance of the issue." He answered, stiffly. Jondrette nodded curtly and went to leave, but Enjolras, in a moment of pure weakness, lurched forward and took a hold on Jondrette's arm. "No," He reanswered, looking deep into the boy's eyes so that he would know that he was telling the truth. "You can trust me once I can trust you."

As if upon hearing this broke something in Jondrette, he pulled away, tears prickling at his eyes. "I can't… I can't trust anyone. I've learned that the most difficult way-"

"You can trust me." Enjolras repeated.

"No, I can't." He said, putting his face in his hands. His back started to shake and Enjolras stepped forward. He carefully peeled Jondrette's hands away, and took the boy's tan face in his hands. Frozen by the tender gesture, Jondrette could do nothing as Enjolras leaned in carefully and pressed a kiss to his sweaty brow.

"Yes, you can."

* * *

There was a round of rambunctious laughter as the crew bit into the second barrel of rum. Grantaire stood, swaying, on top of an unopened barrel. "Bahorel, give us a beat."

The dandy complied by drumming on the ground with someone's discarded boots. The men started clapping and Gavroche was the first to start dancing. The men cheered him on as the little boy nimbly moved his feet to the homemade beat. Eventually, Courfeyrac stood and joined him, grabbing his hands and spinning him in the air, much to his delight.

Then Jehan got up and started dancing by himself until Feuilly drew him into a mock tango, dipping the smaller man in a manner that had the others howling with laughter. Grantaire unsteadily made his way to Marius and held out his hand. Marius blushed and politely declined, answered by Grantaire's eye roll as he tugged him to their cleared circle.

"Go Pontmercy!" Cheered Bossuet, who proceeded to dance a pathetic Irish jig next to Joly. Even Enjolras was watching and laughing, a mug of rum in his hands.

"Fearless leader! Descend from your pedestal and join us!" Grantaire called from the joyous mess. Enjolras groaned but did so, dancing awkwardly by himself before grabbing Cosette and pulling her into a silly American dance with all dancing feet and occasionally the joined elbows. She laughed, her beauty shining through her disguise in the torch light.

Jondrette scowled from the shadows, falling deeper into them as he watched the couple dance. Cosette took no notice of Jondrette's hateful eyes or Marius' wistful ones. Instead she lived the moment in the present, happily dancing with the handsome and drunk Enjolras.

However, the latter saw it and praised himself silently. He was terrible, after all...

* * *

"Damn it, Enjolras!" Jondrette cried, busting into his cabin. Enjolras looked blearily up from his bed. His shirt was unbuttoned, his cravat loose around his neck, and his trousers unbuttoned. Of course Jondrette would catch him in this less than satisfactory manner. However, with the way Jondrette bit his lip, he didn't find it so bad.

"Jondrette, it's past curfew…" He said, standing up and trying to make himself look at least somewhat decent. However, Jondrette stopped him with a raised hand and a pained look.

"I'm Éponine Thernardier." He said, so quietly that Enjolras couldn't be certain that's what he heard.

"Thernardier… As in the _pirate_ Thernardier?" He asked. Jondrette nodded, looking almost relieved at the fact that he ignored the first part. His reprieve lasted only a few seconds before Enjolras' eyes widened in shock and he looked at Jondrette in a new way, stepping close to regard him in the lamplight. "_Éponine?_"

"That's everything I have been hiding; are you happy?" He- _She_- snapped.

Enjolras pinched the bridge of his nose as he tried to make sense of the strange situation. "Will your father come after you?"

She pressed her lips into a tight line and removed her cap casually. Enjolras tried not to gawk as chestnut locks poured down her shoulders, framing her face and making sense of her ethereal beauty. "Don't think so. He's been pinched, and he never cared much for me. Even less for Gavroche." She looked up at him with those eyes that he'd tried to not believe were beautiful. "So you care not for the whole _woman_ factor?"

"Well, it's an issue, but a lesser one most certainly." Enjolras assured her. He sat down on his bed, and patted the space next to him. She took it delicately. "Besides, isn't Fauchelevant a woman?"

Éponine snickered, a rather unladylike action, and nodded. "She doesn't realize that most can see right through her disguise. She's rather lucky that she got this crew, otherwise…"

They both shuddered at what could have become of innocent Fauchelevant.

"I think I saw through yours… At least to a certain extent." Enjolras admitted. "I always thought you were far too pretty to be a boy."

He wondered if he said something wrong when Éponine's face flashed an expression of alarm. She then managed a thin smile. "No one's ever called me pretty before."

Enjolras was genuinely surprised by this. "Really? I would think you would get it quite often."

She flushed a rather endearing shade of red. "No, not particularly, _Monsieur_."

"Enjolras."

"I'm sorry?" She asked, looking up.

"You can still call me Enjolras. You're a member of the crew. Although, because of Courfeyrac and Grantaire, I would suggest you keep on your disguise." They chuckled, and Enjolras was surprised at the continued ease between the two.

"I still prefer 'Enjy'." She smirked and stood, satisfied at the turn out of the evening.

"I don't." Enjolras stood with her and casually placed an arm around her to steer her to the door. "Tomorrow, same time as usual?"

"Yes, Enjolras. That would be lovely." She smiled and added, "In private you may call me Éponine if you wish. Jondrette isn't my real name, after all."

"Éponine…" Enjolras said the name to himself, loving the way it rolled off his tongue. Éponine blushed again, obviously liking it as well. "Éponine…" He said again, lowering his face to hers.

His lips ghosted hers before there was suddenly nothing, and he looked up to see her smoothly exiting his cabin as she pulled her cap back on, a wicked grin on her face.

"Patria is your mistress, _non_?" She blew a kiss in his direction and he ran for the door in time to see her running across the deck, her bare feet gently hitting the deck as she went to where the rest of the cabins were.

Damn girl was going to be the death of him.

* * *

**I'm sorry if this is particularly terrible. I didn't read this over- I wanted to get it up as soon as possible! Review, please!**


	8. Chapter 8

**tWO PEOPLE I OWE FOR THIS ACTUALLY GETTING UPDATED: LITTLE PEOPLE KNOW AND LA PATRON MINETTE. **

**LPK HAS MADE ME KEEP A PROMISE TO UPDATE (SORRY HON, THIS IS A LITTLE LATE BUT HEY IT'S HERE!)**

**AND LA PM HAS BEEN MAKING FUN OF ME FOR NEVER WRITING SO NOW SHE HAS TO UPDATE HER PJATO AU (CHECK MY PLATONIC SOUL MATE OUT PLEASE!)**

* * *

The dining hall was louder than usual. The night before lacked of rum, causing all those present to apply their joviality to the morning. Enjolras rolled his eyes at his friends and observed Éponine out of the corner of his eye. In a shaft of sunlight, a suspended moment caught her with her head thrown back in laughter. Her cap was slipping, causing a few wisps of russet curls to rustle her face in the breeze. She looked over to him momentarily, and he took advantage of that to motion to her to pull her cap up. She got the message and did so quickly.

Unfortunately for Éponine, someone else caught sight of her wardrobe adjustment and pointed it out to the masses.

"Jondrette, _mon ami_! Why is it that you always cover your head?" Grantaire asked, his mug spilling over with rum. Éponine giggled nervously and looked over to Enjolras for help. "I believe," Continued Grantaire, "That we should be lucky enough to catch sight of our little Ship Boys' without their caps!"

At this, Éponine, Gavroche and Enjolras exchanged a quick, alarmed look. Marius, Cosette and Valjean did the same. Thankfully, Javert chose that moment to speak up.

"Listen, I understand that it is necessary to celebrate our victory from a few weeks ago, but that does not mean that we should ignore our other threats." Javert said.

Enjolras jumped in. "Don't let the wine go to your brains." He glared at Grantaire, who shrugged noncommittally.

"It's rum, actually."

"As I was saying," Javert shot both boys a withering glare. "The ship that we are now looking for goes by many names, just like its Captain. For the sake of something to call them, we title their ship 'the Patron-Minette' and the Captain 'Montparnasse' after the cemetery where all his victims are buried."

"Wait," Enjolras said slowly, doing his very best to not look at the Jondrette- _Thernardier_- siblings. "Is the Patron-Minette not the ship of Thernardier?"

"Alas, when the pirate was arrested, his ship and crew went free. The leadership must have been passed on to-"

"His first mate." Whispered Éponine, a haunted look coming over her face.

Javert ignored her. "Now, the crew is known for their surprise attacks and-"

Just then, the ship was hit with a loud blow from outside. The entire boat rocked, sending several of them out of their seats and spilling Grantaire's morning drink over the laps of those around him. When everyone was shocked into silence, it was Gavroche who spoke.

"Found them!"

* * *

The room erupted into chaos as the boys rushed to their cabins to grab their weapons. Enjolras found himself on deck beside the captain. Unfortunately, he lost sight of Éponine in the mess of the situation. Javert unsheathed his sword and Enjolras grabbed the musket from Gavroche's outstretched hands. Before he could protest, he knelt down to the boy and told him, quietly and sternly, "'Vroche, I need you, Éponine, and Fauchelevant to stay below-decks."

"No way!" he protested, but under Enjolras's never-wavering glare, he sagged his shoulders and nodded, running off to find the others.

The Patron-Minette was approaching fast. A cannonball had tore a hole in the side of the ship, and the other crew was taking advantage of the much smaller boat's weakness. While the crew of the S.S. Law floundered in trying to gather their bearings, the pirates were already in formation and ready to climb aboard. Enjolras grimaced and looked briefly around. At the sight of Éponine cowering in the shadow of the rail, his heart clenched.

* * *

Gavroche ran into Cosette and Marius as they were emerging from below decks. "We're supposed to stay below," He said to Cosette, who looked up at Marius. He nodded, releasing her and going to join in the starting fight. She reached out and grabbed his hand, pulling him in an embrace for a second.

"Promise me that you'll come out fine." She murmured into his shoulder. He said nothing, instead releasing her and placing a comforting hand on her shoulder. Her eyes burned with tears as he walked away without saying anything. "Promise!"

He stopped for a second, his shoulders falling forwards. Then he continued up, leaving an emotional Cosette and a worried Gavroche behind.

* * *

"Éponine, please, get below decks." He told her. She was shaking, and his resolve dissolved. "Éponine?"

She looked up at him but couldn't hold his gaze. "I can't- I can't-"

"It will be alri-"

"No it won't!" She screeched. The shaking got more intense and she began to rock back and forth. "They're going to kill you! They are going to kill _all _of you!"

"What did they do to you?" He had to ask, and she laughed bitterly.

"I understand that you chastely lower your eyes to woman in favor of France, but Enjolras, surely you know of the carnal desires of men."

Bile and anger rose in him. When she knew he could say nothing back to her, she stood with a level of difficulty.

"You think I'm disgusting."

His head snapped up. "No. Not at all."

"That is alright, I am not too fond of myself either." She took a few steps before turning around. "They never went all the way… My father had at least that much love for his daughter."

And she vanished from his sight.

* * *

Cosette's scalp was itching, but she couldn't remove her cap. Jondrette was likewise itching his head and Gavroche was lounging on his brother's bed.

"They're going to lose." Jondrette finally said. Cosette glared at her roommate.

"No, they are not." She said with certainty in her voice.

"Yes, they are."

As if Jondrette's words were the que, the fighting that shook the ceiling came to a sudden close. All three of them froze.

"That could… That could mean anything!" Cosette grasped for straws.

"It's best to be safe." Jondrette leapt up and began wrenching their dresser from the nails that kept it rooted to the floor. Gavroche saw what he was doing and joined him. They succeeded in getting it free. The small piece of furniture was placed in front of the door. Jondrette turned expectantly towards Cosette.

"Well? Are you going to help or not?"

Cosette finally nodded and the three of them got one bed against the door as well before there were footsteps in the hallway.

"Get under the bed." Hissed Jondrette to Gavroche.

"No!" The boy huffed. "I am no coward!"

"Do it, Gavroche. Please." Cosette sent towards him. Gavroche looked between the two, his sweet blue eyes narrowed in a mix of frustration and suspicion.

"There is a conspiracy here." He huffed, motioning between the two of them. However, he did duck beneath the bed, muttering something that sounded like 'women'.

The footsteps stopped in front of their door, and Cosette and Jondrette waited.

* * *

"Surrender or we shall kill every man!" Yelled a beast of a man, the pirate Gueulemer.

"We surrender." Javert choked out from where he was being held against the wall by Montparnasse's pale, bony hand. The Captain released the other one. Javert, weak from lack of air, collapsed to the deck and lay motionless at the young man's feet.

"Excellent." Montparnasse bent down and retrieved a handkerchief from Javert's pocked and waved it in the air, mockingly. "A symbol of their cooperation."

His crew laughed accordingly as _Les Amis_ dropped their weapons. Enjolras's blood was still boiling, though. Looking at each man from the other crew, he wondered exactly _what _they had done to the _gamine_ he had taken under his wing. (He also wondered _why_ he cared so much about her, but that was the least of his worries)

"On your knees, scum." Montparnasse ordered. Most of the Les Amis, however reluctantly, obeyed. That is, except for Enjolras.

Montparnasse caught sight of this, as well as Claquesous forcing the first mate to his knees. Once finally there, the Captain strode over to the student and prodded Enjolras's chin with the tip of his sword until Enjolras's face was angled up at Montparnasse.

"We have ourselves a little rebel here, boys." Montparnasse's cherry lips curled into a nasty smirk as he bent down to inspect Enjolras's face. "And he's a _pretty_ one, too."

Enjolras, in response, gathered all the saliva he could in his mouth. He rolled it around and waited for the most opportune time. When the pirate bent down again to look close, Enjolras spat with all he had in him so that his wad of spittle landed between the spring-green eyes of his captor.

Montparnasse stood with all the calmness of the sea before a storm and wiped his face clean using the same cloth that initiated Javert's 'surrender'. Then he motioned to Claquesous with a flick of his head. Before Enjolras knew what was happening, he was dragged to an open spot of the deck, not far from where Bahorel's motionless body lay.

"Take off the boy's belt."

Enjolras couldn't help but flush when he felt fingers pull his belt from his loose canvas pants. They fell slightly around his waist, but stayed up at a respectable height. His thin smock provided little protection for the blow that seemed to come from the heavens themselves.

The belt whistled through the air and sliced Enjolras's back. He cried out in pain. The next blow fell and tore his smock so that a large portion of his pale, lithely muscled back was exposed in the Atlantic sun. He grit his teeth so that he didn't cry out, despite being momentarily blinded from the agony.

In the haze of pain, he heard the voices of some of the other pirates. "Look who we found below decks!"

_No_.

Enjolras's head turned the slightest bit. He caught sight of Éponine and Cosette being manhandled up to the main deck. Éponine hadn't seen him yet; she had to get away from these monsters.

He opened his mouth to warn her, but it was then that the belt came snapping down again and an agonized yell escaped him. His arms buckled from where he was holding himself up. He hit the deck face-first in time to hear Éponine's scream. Éponine's horrifyingly feminine scream.

"Enjolras, no!" A slapping noise shut her up quickly. Needless to say, Montparnasse lost interest in Enjolras fairly quickly.

"I know that voice." He murmured mischievously. "Is that who I believe it to be?"

"No." Éponine's answer was so _her_ that it nearly made him smile. However, Claquesous took it upon himself to pull Enjolras up from the deck to face Éponine. A cool blade was put against his neck.

"Well, who else could it be but a Thernardier?"

There were gasps from the crew, but Éponine was unfazed. "That boy did nothing to you, let him go."

"You want me to let," Montparnasse kicked back suddenly, knocking the air out of Enjolras. His head fell forward and the blade caught the skin on his neck. A trickle of blood landed on the deck. "_Him _go?"

"Yes." Her voice broke. Enjolras saw Montparnasse stalk over to her and lift her chin with his fingers.

"Then tell me, darling…. Tell me that you didn't miss me at least a little bit."

"Not the slightest." She snapped. One look over at Enjolras's battered figure made her demeanor change from proud to wilting. "But… I'll go with you if you promise to leave him be…"

"NO!" Enjolras found his voice and tried to get to his feet, but was forced down with unnecessary brutality.

_Les Amis _saw this exchange and understanding slowly dawned in all their eyes.

"You are coming with me no matter what, pretty 'Ponine. Although," His roaming eyes glanced over her outfit distastefully. "You don't look pretty in _that_."

"Because I looked so much better in rags." She bit out. "And I am only going with you if you leave him be… If you leave _all _of them be."

"No, no, no." Montparnasse cooed. "You don't understand the business transactions of men, 'Ponine. See, shortly before you disappeared, a certain sum was payed to your father. Do not try to escape, _again_. You are mine."

"I am my own person." Her words were strong, but her voice was mere more than a whisper.

"You are my bride." He corrected with flamboyance before crashing his lips over hers.


	9. Chapter 9

"I ain't nobody's bride." Éponine spat as soon as Montparnasse released her. The pirate stroked his hand along her face with a certain tenderness before rearing his hand back and smacking her. Her neck twisted from the force and her cap tumbled off her head, allowing her hair to escape. She fell to the ground after her cap as the entire crew of the S.S. Law cried out in protest.

"You'll see that you have to change your mind." Montparnasse snapped.

"_Leave them alone_." She choked. "Please, they've nothing to do with this."

"You are right, my dearest 'Ponine." Montparnasse looked around at the crew. "They should be dealt with. Men," He said to the crew, "Raise your weapons."

"NO!" Enjolras and Éponine yelled at the same time. Montparnasse spared a snake-like look back at the held-down Enjolras. Montparnasse slowly stepped closer to him, his neat boots occupying Enjolras's vision until that was all he could see.

He knelt down and grasped Enjolras's face with his hands and raised it up high. Montparnasse got close enough so that he and Enjolras could be mistaken for sinning lovers. He put his lips nearly against the young man's ear and whispered, "Yes." Montparnasse stood up straight and barked out the order, "Back-up plan, men!"

It was a collective sound that caused the only two of the crew to flinch. It, thankfully, wasn't the sound of gunshots or swords sheathing inside bodies. It was simply the dull 'thunk' of the butt of a pistol connecting with someone's skull.

"You didn't-" Éponine breathed, looking at Montparnasse with a sort of stunned awe that made Enjolras's blood boil.

"Kill them? No. I'm not _completely_ heartless." Montparnasse held out his hand, and it was as if he and his men had telepathic connections, for someone immediately handed him a real whip and rope.

"No, 'Parnasse, _stop!"_ Éponine launched herself at him and grasped his hands, nearly making him drop the items that he held there. Enjolras watched in horror as the furious man twisted his hands in Éponine's exposed hair. Montparnasse grasped at her throat with his other hand.

"ÉPONINE!" Enjolras yelled, feeling his voice crack from the excitement of the afternoon.

Éponine's struggle slowed until she was completely stopped, and her head lolled forward.

"NO!" Enjolras was completely ignored.

Montparnasse carefully placed her on the ground. His fingers sought out her wrist and felt there for a few moments. He nodded to himself and then, with a jerk of the captain's head, one of the stronger men stepped forward and scooped Éponine off the ground.

"No wandering hands or I'll cut them off," Montparnasse warned. His shifty gaze caught sight of two unconscious figures sprawled together. "Say, these are two awfully pretty boys. Grab them too."

The pirates obeyed, and as the two slim figures were carried to the other ship, Enjolras noted with some horror that it was Fauchelevant and Pontmercy. His concern for the Ship's Boys was lost when the Captain turned back to him and cracked the whip in the air.

"I haven't quite finished with you, now have I?"

* * *

Éponine struggled as much as she could, but Montparnasse had weakened her emotional state, so she had nearly no drive. She'd come to in the middle of Enjolras's brutal beating, and she was forced to listen to the screaming of the whip through the air and his agonized cries.

Now, in Montparnasse's cabin, his hands covered in blood- Enjolras's blood- were forcing their way down her trousers. He'd gotten _this _far with her before, making her endure his hand touching her most intimate areas and she, in return, had been made to touch his.

His hand brushed the nub of flesh and, in front of her flashed an image of Enjolras laughing as he bent over her and showed her how to conjugate _avoir _and _être._ A sudden strength filled her and she shoved Montparnasse away with all of her strength.

"You bitch!" He yelled at her. She thought nothing of it and instead crawled as far away from him as she could, trying desperately to re-do her pants. When he got close to her again, she kicked out with her legs and screamed.

"You are not going to touch me _ever_!"

* * *

She snuck away from Montparnasse long enough to bring food down to where the captives were. She knew from experience that this brand of pirates tended to care not for their captives. When she came into the dark cave, having to raise her bothersome skirts (more like rags) over her ankles, she nearly dropped her tray of food upon seeing the pale face of Cosette staring at her.

"What are you doing here?"

"It smells bad." Cosette whimpered. Éponine stepped close and saw that her former roommate was cradling Marius's head in her lap. They were surrounded by motionless bodies- former captives that were not cared for- and Éponine's heart reached out. Cosette was delirious from lack of drink.

She handed the other girl the flask she brought with her. Cosette hesitated with the bottle in front of her lip before carefully easing Marius's mouth open and pouring a good amount in his open mouth. He drowsily swallowed. Cosette placed a soothing kiss on his forehead before gently setting his head down on the ground and walking over to a figure sheathed in shadows.

Éponine came as close as she could and it was then that she _did _drop the food (it was dirty anyway). There, shackled to the wall and slumped forward, was Enjolras. His head was resting on his bare shoulder, and Éponine caught sight of his exposed stomach. The rest of his torso was sparsely covered in a ripped smock that blood had soaked through in most places.

"Enjolras," Éponine nearly choked. Cosette eased his head upright and poured water down his throat. He swallowed painfully, and it was the sound of one nearly dead.

"You didn't know he was here?"

"I didn't know any of you were here." Éponine scooped the food back on the tray and slid it under the bars to Cosette. "I'll be back as soon as I can with more food. And to tend to him."

She was confronted once she reached the deck level.

* * *

When Enjolras woke, his back was burning and his wrists and ankles were shackled. There was an awful smell in the air that smelt suspiciously like a wound left to air. He tried to open his mouth to call for someone, but all that escaped was an awful groan that he swiftly cut off by grinding his teeth together.

"He's awake," Fauchelevan't soft voice came from somewhere beside him. Then Pontmercy's face was right in front of his, and he was waving a hand in front of Enjolras's face. The latter growled and glared at the boy, who flinched and retreated.

"How long- _merde_ this hurts- have I been out?" Enjolras asked with a certain weakness that he did not appreciate.

"I-We can't tell for sure," Fauchelevant murmured, looking around their dank environment. The only light was emanating from a kerosene candle that was very dim. "We've been down here a long time. Jondrette came down once to bring us food."

"She's here?" Enjolras looked around, but Fauchelevant eased his motions and shook her head.

"She's… above deck."

Just then, a horrible scream came from above them, rattling the floorboards. Enjolras froze and felt his heart do the very same. There was not another one, but there was awful whimpers that he could hear as if she was in the same room.

"How long has this been going on?"

"Since he- _she_- came down to bring us food." Marius said, tiredly. Enjolras cursed and struggled against his bindings, but to no avail.

"Éponine's up there with that-that-that…"

"Monster?" Fauchelevant suggested sadly. "Bastard? Life-ruiner?"

"Pirate?" Marius piped up. Both his companions shot him a look and he seemed to shrink inside himself.

"I have to," Enjolras jangled his handcuffs hopelessly, "Help her." Suddenly, exhaustion overwhelmed him and he sighed before his world returned to an even darker shade.

* * *

"Jondrette!" Cosette leapt to attention when she heard someone coming down to the hold. However, her heart sank in her chest when it was a masculine figure instead of Éponine's slender, feminine form.

It was a gruff-looking man who unlocked their cell and reached for a key on his belt. He unlocked Enjolras's cuffs, causing him to fall, the impact with the ground pulled him from unconsciousness. Enjolras was forced roughly to his feet and dragged out of the cell.

Cosette watched with worry as the former First Mate was tugged above decks, lacking most of his strength. His shirt was in tatters on his back, and the red welts were oozing without proper care.

_What could they possibly want with him?_

* * *

**Next chapter is going to be worse... Sorry, I'm not sorry. This chapter is short because my review count is always quite... shall we say... ****_unimpressive_**** given the amount of reads this story has. So please, if you read, just drop ****_anything_****! **

**Also, I wrote a feel-better fic for myself. It's a 50 First Dates AU, and thoroughly depressing (and *shudders* awful).**


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